Read part 1 -here
Read part 2 -here
Read part 3 -here
Read part 4 -here
--------
The empty silence that rented their space for the next few moments was cresting to a multitude of questions on Pavil’s part.
He wasn’t sure if it was from the sheer confusion of what he’d just heard from the watchman or the fact that children were capable of killing other children on school grounds these days.
‘It’s too much of a speculation’ Khar spoke almost reading Pavil’s thoughts. ‘the watchman could be lying or even if he did speak the truth, it’s just a version of his truth.’
‘I don’t know’ Pavil chewed his lips ‘it felt like he was trying to cover for the seniors.’
‘In that case, he didn’t do a very good job of it. Let’s see what the digital forensics have to say’ Khar sank back in a chair and Pavil picked up his phone.
A small saw with an inch wide blade. Why would anyone bring that to a school? who needs these tools? What is a saw that size used for.. making small stools or sawing smaller pieces of wood? A saw, a spice-scented cigarette, a broken phone, a dead child, a friend, a watchman, senior kids? perhaps.. But a saw..
Pavil wasn’t aware of any correct official protocol to wake up a sleeping senior officer and so he simply cleared his throat.
A deep voice emanating from hidden depths of meditative composure poured out of Khar ‘What news?’
Pavil studied his notebook ‘The broken phone found at the crime scene was registered on Mr Wasim’s name. At five minutes past four, a message was sent from that phone and it received three calls yesterday evening’
He stopped for a moment hoping for a reply but getting none, he continued ‘The message was sent to a mobile phone registered in the name of a Nehar Sinhal, it said “Hey man, gotta go. Parent’s picking up. Something important. See you tomorrow” after which the deceased’s phone received three calls. First at six thirty, second at eight and third at ten from a landline..registered in the name of Veda Sinhal’ he paused, drew a breath, and continued ‘The rest of the analysis in regards to any evidence found in the investigation of the phone, DNA, hidden fingerprints will take a minimum ten days, but we have this for now’
‘This is interesting’ Khar let the smallest flicker of a smile dot his face before retracting into a reflective stance.
‘What time is it, Pavil?’
‘Almost eight, sir’
‘Let’s meet Majid’s parents’
There was only so much one could have learnt in one day, but for Pavil this fateful or rather unfortunate in many ways Monday had been an encyclopedia of new learnings.
He joined the force only two short years ago and what he expected from this job was far more than what this job expected out of him; in his mind he roughed up criminals, arrested lawless crooks and made this world a better place, what he didn’t envision was that he’d end up sermonizing teenagers caught with recreational drugs, scan for lost cars and try talking sense to smack-addled brains, which was an unnecessary albeit official protocol.
None of these experiences had been handy enough in tutoring him to deal with grieving parents of a murdered child and it was with a heavy heart topped with a poker face that he sat on the passenger seat in Khar’s car.
‘Take a left from here, sir’ Pavil was scrutinizing the map on his phone and giving directions.
The house looked modest in bearing, partly because it was draped in gloom. Exaggerated by silence, mourning semblance lingered like a cloud and everything seemed unnaturally quiet. Partly by the fact that no one wanted to be seen around, maybe out of awkwardness or perhaps out of apathy.
The weak glow of a dying bulb lit a distant part of the house which conspired in the anguish that resided within the walls, and Pavil waited for Khar to walk, trailing behind him he was at a loss for words.
There were more people than he’d expected. Family members of both husband and wife sat around the house, speaking in faint monotones. The entire atmosphere, to Pavil, was rather buttoned up and if there were sobs they had been mostly subdued.
Majid’s father sat at the dining table staring at his phone. Its glowing screen indicating that it was silently ringing.
‘Mr Wasim’ Khar’s voice was soft and disarming.
Majid’s father looked up at Khar and a few seconds later when recognition set in he asked him to sit down.
‘We’ve already given our statement’ Mr Wasim said
Khar looked at the grieving father and spoke gently ‘This isn’t official. We just want to ask a few questions as some new evidence has come to light. I’m sorry for disturbing you..’ he couldn’t finish when Mr Wasim suddenly looked up ‘have you found the murderer?’ his voice was ragged and hoarse.
‘No, Mr Wasim’ Khar said matter of factly, we cannot divulge any details, I just want to know if there were any changes in your plan for Sunday.
According to the statement you gave this morning -Majid was going to stay at his friend Tejan’s house on Sunday night, so I request you, think hard, if you or your wife called him up to change the plan and decided to pick him yourself’ Khar’s tone had taken an official note, which though subdued was remarkably formal.
Mr Wasim was silently brooding ‘No. We were quite happy he was going to be with a friend that night, and we were looking forward to a Sunday to ourselves. There was no change in plans’ he covered his face with his hands.
Khar looked at him for a moment ‘may we speak to your wife?’ he quietly asked
‘Can we please do this tomorrow?’ Mr Wasim was barely audible.
‘Of course’ Khar stood up to leave, ‘did Majid have his own phone which he carried to school?’ he asked
Majid’s father nodded.
‘Now?’ Pavil asked opening the car’s door.
‘Check the map for Sinhal residence’ Khar said.
The Sinhal house was one of those important landmarks of a town that everyone knows about.
It used to be an old if not ancient structure; a baroque building from old times, bulking, even grotesque, yet magnificent, tattered, broken and forgotten until almost half a century ago when it was bought by an important political family of that area who renovated it into a miniature castle.
It was lavish in a way that didn’t look ostentatious but didn’t pretend at fitting in with commonly understood aesthetics either.
Lit from outside and within, its sprawling gardens manicured to perfection were a study in horticulture and dainty gazebo’s in tasteful designs dotted the garden area.
It was privy to the kind of parties that Pavil only saw in movies, which always failed to enchant him.
A huge gate marked the entrance of Sinhal residence and a sea of security guards armoured with machine guns and dressed in black fatigues had them waiting for what Pavil felt was an irritably long time, before letting them in.
The entire demeanour of this household was nothing if not contradictory to the morbid local tragedy and bereaved Wasim household.
‘The only reason anyone cares about Majid’s murder is because they’re scared, the knowledge that it could have been their child instead makes them uneasy, but here..’ Khar pointed outside his window at a line of security personnel
‘no one lives in that fear’ Pavil knew for certain that Khar could read his thoughts.
No comments:
Post a Comment